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When Henry was a young man, his Father assigned him to work with my Father, Joe Wathen, for a couple of summers. They were quite a team, Henry was probably 18+ and my Father was 60+. They were assigned high tech work such as hand-hoeing or pulling mustard. Neither of them were particularly industrious and that is probably why Alfred assigned them to work together. One hot day Alfred drove into the field to check on them and discovered that Henry, somewhat the worse for wear after a long evening, was catching a nap between a couple of rows of potatoes. Joe promptly stood up in the woods at the end of the field where he had been seeking temporary relief from the hot sun. My parents and Henry's parents were lifelong friends and I heard many tales of Henry's exploits as a young man. I know that both Henry and Joe treasured those two summers workking on the farms. Rest in peace, Henry.